


dionaea muscipula

by placidings



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Blood, M/M, Pining, Possibly Unrequited Love, hanahaki disease au, im sorry ara, my first fic for this fandom wow can you believe, slight gore, this was supposed to be crack but my fingers slipped, twitter prompts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-18
Updated: 2018-05-18
Packaged: 2019-05-07 21:39:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14680002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/placidings/pseuds/placidings
Summary: The Venus Flytrap: scientific name,Dionaea Muscipula; a carnivorous plant native to subtropical wetlands in the United States.Or, in this case, Oikawa's lungs.





	dionaea muscipula

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was borne out of a response to my tweet asking for random prompts to write so I can haul my ass out of this annoying writer's block that's been plaguing me for months. [Ara](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ang_gray_smol/pseuds/ang_gray_smol) suggested a crack!Hanahaki au with ridiculous flowers instead of the usual pretty ~aesthetic~ ones. It was SUPPOSED to be crack. I'm so sorry. My fingers slipped.
> 
> beta'd by ara, too!

It started with chest pains. Just pulses of mild discomfort that spanned 15 to 20 seconds, usually alleviated by rubbing at his chest in slow, circular motions. The pain grew from bad to worse to downright unbearable in the span of four months, and by that time, Iwaizumi had begun to notice; of course he would, especially when it interfered with volleyball practices and when it hits him whenever they were alone in the club room or walking home together. Oikawa brushed him off, of course. The chest pains were nothing, _nothing, I'm fine, Iwa-chan, I'm just tired_ , as if his admission of fatigue wasn't as alarming as the phenomenon that was causing the admission itself.

Either way, Iwaizumi respected this, for some odd reason, by never pressing or asking any questions. It was better off that way, probably, because on the fifth month; the coughing started right after Iwaizumi spent the night at his place; which meant Oikawa had stayed up watching his sleeping face (like that was a normal thing for best friends to do), which meant that he realized he was neck-deep into his crush towards Iwaizumi. Oikawa isn't an idiot—of _course_ , he would be the cause of whatever the fuck it was he was coming down with. He had a hunch and it sounded far-fetched, but then again, the chest pains were amplified every time they were together, and the coughs began when he was there, inches away from him.

Great. Not like the emotional weight of having a massive crush—maybe something even more—on his childhood friend isn't enough to wear him down. It just _had_ to have physical manifestations that did not have a known cure.

And so, Oikawa did his best to keep his distance from Iwaizumi. No more sleepovers until he managed to pull himself together. No walking home together. No staying in the club room after everyone has left, because he and Iwa-chan were usually the last persons to go. If Iwaizumi noticed, he didn't say anything, nor did he give any indications that he was bothered by it.

That just made things worse.

Two weeks into this new routine and three after the sleepover, Oikawa started coughing up blood. One night, he made the mistake of staying behind in the shower rooms hacking up what he can so he can look _normal_ in front of his team, but Iwaizumi found him. He fucking walked in on Oikawa regurgitating blood, bent over the sink, and god knows how much Iwaizumi fusses over him whenever he shows the slightest amount of discomfort.

"What the _fuck_ ," Iwaizumi had said, rubbing his back gently; a stark contrast from the bite in his words. "Is wrong with you?"

Oikawa had spat the last mouthful out into the sink, ignored the way Iwaizumi's touch sent spikes of pain through his chest. He had rinsed his mouth out (he hated the metallic taste, always have), washed his hands, and then gently shrugged him off. He had smiled. Oikawa had _smiled_ like his teeth weren't stained red. Like he wanted nothing else but to melt into that touch, those hands, that warmth. "I'm fine, Iwa-chan. You're not my mother, stop doting."

He had walked out even before Iwaizumi could fully register what happened. He had run home before he realized he's gone, without saying goodbye to the team. At about half of the way, his chest had throbbed so badly he had to catch his breath in the middle of the sidewalk. A block away and he had, once again, hacked up an alarming amount of blood; yet the pain in his chest never subsided. Oikawa had skipped dinner and gone straight to bed, in hopes that he could sleep away the pain—of having to hide this from everyone he knew, of having to hide what he felt towards Iwaizumi (his Iwa-chan), of knowing that this sickness only served as a brutal reminder that his feelings are not, and probably will never be reciprocated. By this time, he knows.

It’s Hanahaki, the sickness borne of unrequited love.

He had fallen asleep after the chest pains subsided, a full hour after he had crawled into bed.

Then, when the clock on his wall read midnight and most of his household was asleep, Oikawa was jolted awake by a blinding, burning pain in his chest that was accompanied by hacking, wheezing coughs and a surplus of his own blood. He was a mess: it dripped from his lips and soaked his blankets; it was spattered across the floor in droplets of crimson; some of it was coagulated, sticky and solid— _no_ , Oikawa thought, eyeing the chunk of blood on his lap. _No, it wasn’t just a mass of blood._

It was a tiny Venus Flytrap.

**Author's Note:**

> completely unrelated, but catch me screaming over sawamura daichi on [twitter!](https://twitter.com/Iakambini)


End file.
